Death for Revolution (Ver 2)
by MademoiselleKraut
Summary: The bullet passed through him with such ease that Grantaire did not notice he was shot till he looked down at his blood stained shirt. How was it he hadn't felt any pain, or even notice the bullet. He didn't know and he never would. e/R ship, Rated T for death of character.


Author's Note: I have recently gotten into e/R as a ship and I just really wanted to write a Grantaire death scene, but with him dying before Enjolras, So here it is! BTW I won't be uploading 'Who Am I' for a while due to the fact I lost my muse. Sorry for the inconvenience.

The bullet passed through him with such ease that Grantaire did not notice he was shot till he looked down at his blood stained shirt. How was it he hadn't felt any pain, or even notice the bullet. He didn't know and he never would.

Ignoring the wound wasn't an option that would last; it was starting to hurt too much. He also couldn't go on fighting for he was beginning to feel the dizziness that occupied blood loss. Still the drunkard ignored the pain and the dizziness till he couldn't anymore. He collapsed onto the ground with a loud 'thunk'.

Feuilly was the first to notice that his comrade had passed out. Within moments, some of the barricade boys had surrounded Grantaire to help. Amongst them was Enjolras and Joly.

The leader yelled at those surrounding to get back to their posts while Joly flipped Grantaire to his back to inspect the bullet laceration. When the boys left Joly looked up at Enjolras with such a frighten look that even the 'fearless' leader was scared.

"Is he going to be alright?" stammered Enjolras as he knelt down beside Joly.

"Of course not!" the medic declared, "He is lying in dirt and blood. For Christ sakes he could get an infection!"

Enjolras signed heavily, "But other than that he will be okay, right?"

"Yes I think he should be okay, but that depends on how much blood he's lost."

The two friends took their gaze from Grantaire to each other. Unspoken words were sent through that stare. Grantaire could die and he would die for a cause he never believed in.

"Well than," Enjolras stated while fixing his eyes on the drunkard again, "better put him off to the side somewhere."

Bossuet, who was eavesdropping on the quick conversation turned to the two men and pointed to the barricade.

"On the far left of the barricade is a niche that you could put him in."

"Why is there a niche?" Joly asked before Enjolras could.

The balding man shrugged, "I think it was made so we could hide ammunition there, but it's empty. Put it to some use."

The blonde nodded. The niche was a blessing from god.

Without any help, he was able to pick up Grantaire to carry him over to the nook in the barricade. Enjolras was surprised by how much the drunk weighted. He had never seen Grantaire eat before and he never suspected that he would weigh how much he did. Never the less, he carried him over to the part of the barricade where Bossuet had pointed. Sure enough there was a hallow area, and it seemed stable enough. The last thing Enjolras wanted was a cave in.

Grantaire came to after the blonde placed him down. The poor man was confused by what was going o. The last thing he remembered was rushing from the Café to the barricade. Everything else was an utter blank.

The drunk shifted his eyes from the ceiling of the niche to where Enjolras was kneeling. At that every moment, he was taking of the red coat he was wearing to put it over the drunk. While anyone else would have seen Enjolras, Grantaire in his weaken state saw only one thing.

"Apollo?" the man whispered.

Enjolras looked down onto Grantaire and what he saw troubled him. Never in the time had he known this man had he ever seen him in utter bliss. The look of joy in his eyes was far greater than the one he had when he was drunk. And the fact that he had called him 'Apollo' worried him. Enjolras knew that Grantaire had a love for Greek mythology and had often used the Greek gods in his arguments and rants. The fact that Grantaire dubbed him by that name frighten him.

"Grantaire," he choked.

"Oh god, Apollo where am I. Did I die? That damned wounded killed me didn't it? Oh dear god, I didn't want to die just yet."

Tears ran down Grantaire's face at an alarming rate. Enjolras tried to calm him by putting a hand on the wounded man's shoulder.

"Grantaire, it's me, Enjolras. You are not dead and you won't die. I promise you, we're going to live. Grantaire, look at me and stop crying. You're safe now and you are not going to fight anymore. You scared me once and you are not scaring me again, _basterd."_

Grantaire gave a watery smile. With much effort he grabbed the sleeve of his Apollo.

"Stay with me."

Enjolras smiled weakly and nodded his head. He tried with all his might to get into the niche without hurting Grantaire. He believed he had succeeded since the drunk gave no signs that he was hurt, but he could never know for certain.

When all was said and done, Enjolras had settled himself down in a way that made him have Grantaire in his arms. Enjolras in any other situation was had been uncomfortable, but in the light of events the man was strangely pleased with the closeness to the brunette. Grantaire on the other hand was comfortable as well. The warmth that was coming off of his Apollo was a nice change from the damp and cold that he faced while fighting off the National Guard. He also felt safe with his leader's arms around him. He snuggled into the man's chest and he felt the arms around him tighten.

They stayed like that for almost an hour. Joly had come around once to check on Grantaire, but other than that no one disrupted them. It was pleasant despite what was going on. The two could hear the bullets flying through the air for quite some time before someone shouted "THEYRE RETREATING!"

Night fell during that hour and Grantaire felt himself grow weaker. Enjolras also noticed how pale his 'friend' was getting and became quite concerned. He ignored it since he knew how touchy the man in his arms would get if he started to fret over him. Instead of asking if he was alright, Enjolras asked a question that had been plaguing his mind since Lamarque's funeral.

"Grantaire?"

"Hmmm?"

Enjolras swallowed heavily before proceeding, "Why were you fighting with us. I thought you hated the idea of a rebellion. Hell, I thought you believed in nothing."

Grantaire shifted slightly before beginning, "I would die for you Enjolras. I didn't care if what you were fighting in was idiotic. I believed in you and only you Monsieur and I would die by your side no matter what."

Those words brought tears to Enjolras' eyes. Never before had believed those words like he did now. In that moment the blonde realized something.

"Do you love me, Grantaire?"

The brunette was silent for a while before uttering, "Yes."

Grantaire looked up from Enjolras chest to his unbelievably blue eyes. Grantaire noted the tears and the emotions that swirled around in the blue abyss. The drunk was aghast that his Apollo would be revolted by his answer. He was surprised though when the blonde spoke again.

"Good, 'cause I think I'm falling for you; even though you drink so much you should be considered a wine cask."

He smiled at the answer. When Enjolras looked down at him he saw what Grantaire saw in himself. He saw the swirling emotions of love and acceptance in those hazel eyes.

Grantaire linked eyes with Enjolras as well and felt something warmth in his chest. He could also hear and feel his heart slow down more and more. He was going to die and he knew it, but this time he was ready. He was going to die with Enjolras loving him and that was good enough for the drunk.

"I love you, Apollo."

His Apollo grinned before saying, "And I love you."

"Then will you permit it?"

"Permit wha-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Grantaire used the last of his energy to bring himself to the blonde's lips.

How amazing the kiss was. It was filled with emotions that the blonde never felt before. It was the first real kiss he shared with someone and it was full of warmth and love. The kiss lasted what felt like hours before Grantaire started to become limp.

His breath slowed down like his heart had and he could feel his toes grow cold. He parted his lips from Enjolras' when he finally had no energy left to continue on. He still looked straight into his sweet Apollo's eyes and those blue orbs where the last thing he saw before he faded into the darkness.

When the drunk's heart had finally stopped his head and fallen back to show his exposed neck. Tears fell out of his eyes when the man he had just kissed passed on. Though there was unspeakable hurt in his heart, he had to go on. So with much regret he unwrapped himself from the brunette and got out of the niche. He then picked up the man and carried him to the Café where the bodies were being stored. On his way there he felt the gaze of his comrades on the back of his head, but he continued on.

He then placed Grantaire down and closed his eyes. When this was done Enjolras began to cry like had never done before. The pain was too real, it was too much for the man to bear, but he had to continue fighting. So after minutes of crying he brought himself up and walked out of the Musain and made no effort to hide his redden eyes. He was going to continue fight so that Grantaire wouldn't die in vain.

Despite the fact that when hours later Enjolras would be facing the ends of 8 guns, he felt that he did not fail the brunette. All that registered through his mind was

"I'm going to see you soon."

Than all went black for Apollo.

Author's Note: Okay I've literally have tears running down my face. Why do I do this to myself?


End file.
